


Half Time

by scionavarielle



Series: Two Worlds [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angel and Demon, Ficathon, Footy Ficathon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:55:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scionavarielle/pseuds/scionavarielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew by then it was sinful – it is sinful – when the devil’s lips met his and when those lips slowly trail down to his neck, biting, leaving a mark which would take a while before it disappeared. He realized how wrong this was and yet as the lips met his once again, all those clouded thoughts were vanished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half Time

**Author's Note:**

> So, I read this [ prompt ](http://thesilverwitch.livejournal.com/31896.html?thread=671384#t671384) and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I ended up making it, but sadly to say this would not be a _real_ football game. I use the football as a metaphor. The technical of how to play the game was somehow mentioned in this story, albeit only a glimpse. I'm not sure if I would continue this, I just know I had to write this one for a while.  
>  I hope you guys would enjoy this as much as I do while writing it!

_Nobody knew when it started_  
Or how it even began  
They only knew the why

.

.

Mats Hummels. If Benedikt recalled perfectly, it was the name of the devil with malicious smile, stood before him. What was _he_ doing here anyway? The _game_ would not start for another year. A ridiculous game, in Benedikt’s opinion, that had been played ever since he could remember. A game between the angels and the devils that was believed to maintain the balance of the world, like the yin and yang.

“What are you doing, _Avaritia_?” He hissed. Mats – Avaritia – smirked.

“Well, in this case I’m just Mats Hummels. I thought if you call the _eunonym,_ it meansyou’re _playing_ , aren’t we supposed to be on a break?”

Benedikt murmured to himself, probably would be cursing if he didn’t remember _what_ he was. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’ll go.” He was trying to walk again but Mats was standing on his way.

They were in the middle of the crowds. Night in the country, wherever they were, was still filled with pedestrians. It was also not helping that Mats was attractive (not in Benedikt’s opinion but he could hear some people talking in their mind about Mats – and him too, but he ignored that) that they got the attention of the people sometimes.

“I think you stand on my way,” Benedikt retorted.

“I thought this road is for public,” teased Mats. Benedikt glared and then decided to turn around. Bad decision because by then Mats had dragged him and they were somehow teleported to some place – a roof of an unknown building.

“What the heck are you doing?!” He pushed Mats abruptly, almost lost to the cologne smell emitted from the devil’s body. Mats pushed his smaller body to the wall that made a loud sound of ‘Thud’ when his back touched the wall harshly.

“ _Playing_ a game with the angel, can’t I?” Mats gave a smile smirk and Benedikt growled. They were not supposed to use their power and he would not break the rule just because of the devil in front of him. “Just stay calm, would you?” He knew where this would lead to and he hated it by only thinking of that.

Mats grabbed both his wrists on one hand. Damn that devil and his strength, Benedikt cursed in his mind. He knew by then it was sinful – it _is_ sinful – when the devil’s lips met his and when those lips slowly trail down to his neck, biting, leaving a mark which would take a while before it disappeared. Benedikt would have to cover it and try to think of a reason for it. He could hear how disgusting the sound of his moan slowly slipped out from his mouth. He realized how wrong this was and yet as the lips met his once again, all those clouded thoughts were vanished.

This felt right, even though it was not. Even though it was not supposed to.

.

_For the right or wrong was neither there_

.

Toni was new to this _game._ With only fifty years of experiences in his euonym, he was basically the youngest from the rest. To say he was shy was also an understanding, but he would never show that. He was one of the devils, for God’s sake. Ha. That’s funny, he used God in that term. To the others, Toni was the cool looking guy who didn’t talk much unless necessary or when the _ball_ was on his side and he had to do his job as one of the playmakers. He was good with his façade until it came to a certain angel who went by the euonym of Temperantia or by the human’s name, James Rodriguez.

James was also new to the game, Toni could see that by the way the angel looked a bit confused on how to pass the ball or to score. However, the angel was never one to give up. Toni would see the other _practiced_ on the earth when the ball was on someone else or when it’s half time like this.

“It was no use,” Toni said with his gravely accent. The other boy jerked in surprise and almost fell down if Toni didn’t have a good reflex.

“What are you doing here?” was the question Toni had expected coming from the boy.

He shrugged. “Just checking on some,” he said. “It’s no use. He’ll indulge himself to the drinking, you know he will. _Gula_ has made sure of that.”

“Doesn’t mean I could not try.” James shrugged and Toni could see a hint of defeated beneath it.

“You make him control his actions not to drink, but you forgot that Gula is good in shaking the emotions.”

“And you as an _Invidia_ make sure he’s envious and therefore forget any rationality so he indulges himself.”

Toni gave a smile like a father who’s proud with his son who had done a great job. “I see you’ve learnt your lesson.”

“But _Patientia_ will not stay silent and do nothing, you know,” whispered James. “We will win the next one.” James said, more to convince himself than to Toni. It seemed like _Dubium_ was doing the job, how a simple thing could then be a domino effect to something bigger.

“Sure,” Toni just nodded. “But then we’ll have the next one and the next one and the next one. Until we have all been replaced by a new one, the game would still be there.”

The sounds of the wind blowing accompanied the two guys from two different worlds. The moon was hiding somewhere, probably didn’t want to be involved with whatever things that would happen that night.

Toni looked to James, soothingly calm. James sometimes wondered why would Toni be a devil instead of an angel? The other guy obviously didn’t look like the rest of the _team_ , but then again James didn’t know enough of everything. He just knew he had to play his part or else he would fail the team and it’s not something that he would want to do. He was not afraid of being substituted. He knew it could happen if one of them was _injured_. But he was afraid of failing the expectation given to him. He shouldn’t think that, but the ball that came from Dubium before had hit him, hard and it seemed like the effect was still there.

.

_Who played the game then?_

.

Miroslav Klose was glad that he had the _power_ of patience or else he would kill (no kill was an extreme word, but it was the closest one he could think right now) the little devil who kept following him, Thomas Müller.

“Don’t you have something else to do?” asked Miroslav when he arrived in front of his apartment. Funny, he thought. How an angel needed an apartment in the earth was beyond his mind, but he needed the rest when he’s in earth and in his human form, especially when a certain devil couldn’t stop but bugging him everywhere.

The one being asked, Thomas, just shrugged his shoulders and grinned. Oh that sly little boy, Miroslav thought. “Apart from testing your _patience_? Nope, this is far better than anything.”

“I thought you’re supposed to be a Gula?” Miroslav raised an eyebrow to which Thomas just smiled sheepishly.

“Well, I am, but still, we should test our enemy’s limit first, should we not?”

Miroslav sighed. He took out the key card from his pocket, slipped it thru the key hole or something and when the light changed to green, he grabbed the knob. He looked to Thomas, the young boy was pretty much still young, not as young as James, but still young to Miroslav. After all, he had been in this game longer than _anybody else_. Oh not really, no, he just remembered Lahm. The other was pretty much on the same boat with him.

“Where do you live?”

Thomas looked around and found the hall was empty and so he moved closer. Miroslav could smell snow from the boy. He chose to close his eyes for a while before opening them and found Thomas had stood a few part away from him, a bit too close to his liking. “Why won’t you let me just have my rest and let’s have tomorrow for you to test my limit?”

“Then it won’t be fun anymore, will it?” Thomas smirked. By the time he tried to lean closer, MIroslav was quick enough to push the door to his apartment and so left Thomas hanging. Miroslav laughed at Thomas position. It was funny to see how the boy tried to do a prank on the older guy but failed miserably and instead being humiliated. It was also a plus point that the boy started to pout and made a humph.

“It’s night and you should take your rest. If you haven’t found any place to stay, I can have you for the night.” Hearing to Miroslav’s invitation, Thomas gave an incandescent smile. He quickly took a step and got inside Miroslav’s apartment. The older man gave a warning. “ _Just_ tonight, Gula. Just tonight.”

“One night is _more_ than enough, _Patientia_.”

.

_Sixteen players were chosen_

.

Marco was bored. By the time the _game_ came to another half time, Marco knew Mats would go somewhere else. Not like he didn’t know anyway. It was more likely connected with a certain angel with euonym of Caritas. So now he was left alone wondering around the country of love, Paris. Maybe it was Paris, Marco was not so sure. He couldn’t distinguish the language, not like he needed to. All languages would be translated to the one he could understand and the other way around to the people he spoke to.

He had tried to ask Mesut to come with him but Mesut was still injured and Sami wouldn’t allow Marco to let Mesut went out in that condition. Hence, the lonely wandering Marco was seen.

“I guess _Acedia_ suits you well, eh?” A mocking sound, one not too foreign in his ear made him groaned.

He turned around and found a guy whom he didn’t want to jump into. “What do you want, Lewandowski.”

Robert Lewandowski was the man in front of him. Now don’t take Marco wrong, he was not very good in description but Lewandowski didn’t even deserve to be described by Marco. In addition, Marco would not be called as Acedia for nothing, right?

“Just funny that of all the _players_ and I found you here, must be fate, eh?”

Marco groaned. “Whateva,” he said. He took back whatever he thought before. Being bored to death might actually be better than talking to Robert. “I’ll just get back.” However, Robert was already standing so close to him, blocking his way. “Get lost,” He hissed, a hint of annoyance and threat were obvious.

A mischievous smile was plastered on the angel’s face and Marco hated that. He loved _playing_ , but Robert was not on his list, nor would the angel be in there. “Mats is not here, so I thought you’ll like some company.”

“I’ll rather be alone than being accompanied by you, thank you very much.” Robert hold Marco’s wrist, tightly and it gave a burning heat to the latter’s. “Fuck off.” However Robert didn’t react. If anything, he got closer to Marco and the hold on the wrist got firmer. Marco was sure by then he would have a mark on his wrist and people would talk.

“Why do I feel that you avoid me the most?” Robert asked, his eyes were soothing and a bit puzzled of Marco’s behavior towards him.

“Because,” Marco began, this time he struggled a bit harder. “If you forget, you’re a _n Industria_ and I’m an Acedia. We’re both different, in everything, so I guess it’s also logical that I avoid you the most.”

Marco hated the smile on Robert’s face. It’s like the angel was somehow mocking what he had said just now and above everything, Marco hated how he’s so easily being dragged by Robert to somewhere else (and even did that willingly, not that he would admit it though). Marco sometimes wondered how Robert could end up as an angel. After all the man who was on him right now was anything but an angel. He didn’t have any kind of virtues unless the one he was assigned to. Marco thought, Robert should be a devil instead, yeah, with what the latter could do with the tongue and oh how skillful it could be.

And yet, Robert was not a devil, he was another part of Marco, the one who’s supposed to be the _good_ one. He’ll be damned, both of them, but who cared? It’s _half time_ anyway.

.

_Two different worlds_

.

The room was pitch dark except the small light from the desk lamp next to the bed. On the bed itself was two young man, _topless_ , covered by the blanket. One was leaning on the other’s broad chest, inhaling the scent of each other. The one with the blond hair was playing with the brunette’s hair, staring at the empty ceiling above them.

“Schweini,” The brunette – Lukas Podolski – called the blonde, Bastian Schweinsteiger. Soft in a whisper. “Why can’t you be here instead, with me?” He snuggled on Bastian’s neck, afraid of looking through the eyes.

Bastian stopped playing with Lukas’ hair. He held Lukas closer so both could still feel the sticky body from their previous activities. “I can’t,” Bastian said, slowly. Because he knew whatever he said might hurt and crash everything they had until then.

Lukas didn’t say anything. The sounds of their breathing were the only thing that filled the room. Bastian gave a peck to Lukas’ forehead while squeezing the latter’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

They exchanged another silences, no words was needed because they knew each other by heart. It hurt actually, to both of them, and he wondered what kind of game – apart from the _real_ game they were playing – that God was playing with them.

“It’s okay,” Lukas said, gave a peck to the other’s neck. “I understand.”

Bastian chuckled. “We have a year, let’s spend it without thinking too much, deal?”

Lukas nodded. “Deal,” and a kiss was shared between them.

 _“I’ll have to protect you, even if it’s from the other side,”_ was left unsaid.

.

_A game with unlimited time_

.

Sergio was so bored. He was going out with Cristiano just now but the latter had found something to annoy so he was now left alone. Walking alone in the city at night was kind of annoying. He felt anger inside him. Maybe because of _what_ he was. He shrugged.

Decided to just get inside a random club to spend the night, he bumped into someone. He didn’t have to look because he recognized the smell and he tried to suppress his grin. “So I meet a _Spera._ God must _love_ me so much.”

The guy he bumped into, Spera or one called as Iker Casillas, stared at him blankly. The guy then sighed, like he had just met a disaster, Sergio thought, but the devil was damn wrong because the next thing happened was unexpected. “Just the guy I need.” Iker exclaimed, somewhat happy to Sergio’s surprised because Iker was Iker. The angel wanted nothing to do with Sergio or any devil if possible. It’s said to maintain the sacred the angel had.

Sergio arched his eyebrows. “Excuse me?” He didn’t get a chance for a reply because the next thing he knew, Iker tilted his chin and they kissed (a little bit with tongue involved, but not too many details there). The devil’s pupils were dilated. Shocked was clearly shown on his face. Slowly though, he enjoyed it and kissed back.

The sudden changed of temperature stopped their kiss. He realized that he was wet, but didn’t know why. It was not raining.

“You jerk!” A voice from his left made him turn his head and then he realized the reason why he was suddenly thrown a bucket. There, in front of him, stood a girl, whom he didn’t recognize but probably an acquaintance of Iker because the latter just grinned. Iker pulled him closer to a hug, to his confusion.

“Sorry, I told you before, you’re playing on the wrong tree,” Iker said. “I’m sorry I was late sweety, let’s go home now.” Sergio shuddered at the cute nickname that Iker gave to him, but if this was a game, he was so on.

Sergio smirked and trailed his hand on Iker’s wet shirt (damn those shirt was showing the latter’s posture perfectly). “Sure thing, I was about to worry but then it’s nothing.” He gave a peck again to Iker’s lips. If the latter was startled, he was great of not showing it but instead a warm smile was attached.

They walked away and left the girl behind. The wet shirt they wore slowly became dried but it wouldn’t matter because when they arrived at Sergio’s apartment, they wouldn’t need any. It was still a mystery for Sergio about Iker’s behavior, but oh well it could be arranged later. He didn’t have any objection to this anyway.

.

_Four wins in a row_

_._

Lionel Messi was walking with his soon to be successor, Neymar, when a certain devil decided to show up. He groaned in annoyance. He was teaching Neymar on how to make a right _kick_ and _scored_ a goal because he knew the other _goalkeeper_ was one of a kind. So he definitely didn’t want his practice to be ruined by Cristiano Ronaldo.

“Human need to be _proud_ of themselves, what you do is just wasting time,” Cristiano – Cris – said from behind them.

“I know, but if it’s too much, it will ruin them, I have to make sure that won’t happen,” answered Leo.

“You devil should just get back to hell!” shouted Neymar. Cris looked to the younger guy, black skin, weird haircut, taller than Leo though, he chuckled.

“Ney,” Leo gave a warning tone. The last thing he wanted was to have a fight with the devil. They would break the rule and above anything, Leo was never to disobey a rule. Neymar looked lost like a little puppy. Leo just sighed. “Let me handle this, okay?” Neymar just nodded. Leo couldn’t blame Neymar though. The younger guy had a bad memory with the devil, well, _every one_ of them already had a _memory_ of each other.  

Cris just stood there, straight with all his glory, smirking. “I wonder why it seems like each of you angel has a pet of their own, couldn’t protect yourself?”

Leo gave a hand to stop Neymar who looked like could run into anytime soon. “We just appreciate what we have, Cris, so you could say that we’re _proud_ of ourselves. Let’s just call it a night.” Leo tried to propose a truce, though he didn’t think it would happen as he could feel another presence coming close to them.

Sure enough, not long, a girl – Irina – if Leo remembered the name correctly appeared, wearing a red dress that was very short and showed her cleavage. She would be a great substitute for Bastian, Leo thought. Behind them, another guy approached, but was not alone. It was Toni Kroos with James Rodriguez. What even did Toni do with James?

James quickly ran to Leo, away from Toni and did Leo just see, in a split of second, a hurt appeared on Toni’s eyes?

“Well it’s three on three, maybe we should _play_ a game, what about that?” Cris challenged.

Leo shook his head. “No thanks, we’ll take the rest, if you don’t mind.”

“Aw, come on, just a game, or you guys are afraid of losing?” Irina taunted and it almost worked on Neymar, _almost_.

Fortunately for them they were on rooftop so if they wanted to run, they could spread the wings and do so. People wouldn’t notice them anyway because human could not see them once the wings were spread. “If you guys enjoy so much of the _game,_ I guess you should go practice right now.” Leo was never one too happy to see José Mourinho, but this time he was glad the old man came. Mourinho was what human would probably called as a coach, he taught the devil’s on how to play, to score, to win the game. 

The devils became tensed when they heard Mourinho’s voice. Arrived from nowhere, he was walking closer to both sides right now. “Cris, you should give an example to your successor not the otherwise. Irina, I told you to get back to practice again, and Toni, just don’t follow Cris, okay?” Toni nodded. Cris just shrugged while Irina bit her lips. “Now get out of here or I will not allow you guys to play.” Leo knew that it was just a bluff. Mourinho would not take a chance of not letting one of his best players to play, but the threat seemed working as it turned out Cris and Irina decided to walk away. Toni did too after he took a glance on them – more likely to James.

Mourinho gave a nod to Leo, to which he nodded back. He was a bit grateful. He knew he didn’t have really much chance if they were about to fight. Neymar was still green. James, he couldn’t beat Cristiano Ronaldo just yet especially if there’s Irina involved and Toni. Sigh. At least he had just passed the critical situation. He should practice more and teach Neymar and James as much as he could. They had to be prepared. After all, the humanity was at stake.

.

_Two mentors_

.

The beach at night was somehow scary, consumed by the darkness with no moon to shine. The noise came from the waves met with the coastline sounded like a horror music background. The streetlight somehow flickered like when a ghost was coming in the movie. Only this time, instead of a ghost, it was a man sitting on the sand, watching the night view, alone.

However it was not long for a while later, another guy, shorter in height joined. The shorter guy sat beside the former as he greeted, “Manu.”

Manu or Manuel Neuer, the guy who had been at the beach long enough, just nodded without looking. The shorter one, Philipp Lahm, followed Manuel’s gaze to stare at something beyond the sea. They didn’t know where to start.

“How’s it going there?” Manuel asked after a period of silence.

Philipp just shrugged. “Everyone’s okay. How’s there going?” he asked nonchalantly. For once, Philipp wanted to stop being too rigid, to forget the title of captain that he held.

“Nothing changes much,” Manuel answered in a soft-spoken voice.

Once again the silence was there. Both Philipp and Manuel didn’t make an attempt to make a conversation for they wouldn’t need it. Had it been another circumstance, both could not sit in peace like this. They would draw their _weapon_ , point it to each other and start to fight. However, this year was different. This year, they could forget about _what_ they were for a while and be _who_ they were.

No _Dubium_ and no _Castitas_. Just Manuel and Philipp. Just two _ordinary_ men spending time with each other in the middle of the night.

.

.

 _The game has been played in ages_  
No one knows how  
No one knows when  
No one even knows who started it  
They only know why

_._

_._  

**Author's Note:**

> So instead of using the normal eleven players like in the real football, I used eight players.  
> If you notice the nickname then you'll understand why ;)  
> How it really played would be like a football (the concept but not literally football)  
> And yeah, that's it. Thanks for reading!  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated :)
> 
> xoxo  
> [ Scion ](https://twitter.com/_Verzeihen)


End file.
